Juliet caught at the reins.

"For God's sake, don't do that!" cried Helen, balking her clutch. "You
will kill us both."

Juliet sunk back in her seat. The ponies went at full speed along the
road. The danger was small, for the park was upon both sides, level
with the drive, in which there was a slight ascent. Helen was perfectly
quiet, and went on gradually tightening her pull upon the reins. Before
they reached the house, she had entirely regained her command of them.
When she drew up to the door, they stood quite steady, but panting as if
their little sides would fly asunder. By this time Helen was red as a
rose; her eyes were flashing, and a smile was playing about her mouth;
but Juliet was like a lily on which the rain has been falling all night:
her very lips were bloodless. When Helen turned and saw her, she was far
more frightened than the ponies could make her.

"Why, Juliet, my dear!" she said, "I had no thought you were so
terrified! What would your husband say to me for frightening you so! But
you are safe now."

A servant came to take the ponies. Helen got out first, and gave her
hand to Juliet.

"Don't think me a coward, Helen," she said. "It was the thunder. I never
could bear thunder."

"I should be far more of a coward than you are, Juliet," answered Helen,
"if I believed, or even feared, that just a false step of little Zephyr
there, or one plunge more from Zoe, might wipe out the world, and I